


Open Arms

by shyannasaur



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Aggressive Shane, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Fluff and turmoil, PTSD, Shane is very clumsy and Ember has to deal with it lol, Slight Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, awkward Shane, dunno haven't decided yet lol, maybe smut??? but like waaaayyyy later, tags updated as needed, writing gets better as I progress thru the fic :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyannasaur/pseuds/shyannasaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a loner.<br/>A bitter, drunk, easily set-off loner. Every day was the same as the last: go to a job he hated for minimal payment, visit the local bar to blindly drink his pains away, go home, pass out, only to wake up from repeating nightmares the next morning to do it all over again. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. But what if one day wasn't like the rest? What if something made it different?</p><p>What if <em>someone</em> made it different?</p><p>Well, that changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Ember

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So I've been playing quite the amount of Stardew Valley lately, and I can honestly say I'm in love with this game. So naturally when I become obsessed with something, I write about it ! This will be a long fic with slow burn and lots of drama and feels, so hold on to your gardening tools and let's get into it! Hope you enjoy, and comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcome xoxo

She adjusts herself on the worn seat of the bus, unable to keep still knowing her stop is less than a half a mile away. Small rips in the vinyl scratch at the backs of her exposed thighs. She curses herself for wearing shorts knowing she had a twenty hour bus ride to her new home, but in her defense, her old town was well in the high 90's when she left (despite it being spring) and her seat was the least damaged of the whole bus. She watches as the car is swallowed by a long, dark tunnel; streams of light from dim bulbs fly by as they pass through it. The bus eventually reaches the end. Rays of fresh sunlight are almost blinding as the end of the tunnel spits them into the outside world. The tires come to an abrupt stop; one that makes her all but collide into the seats in front of her. The doors of the bus open with a harsh skidding noise.  
"Stop number 210: Stardew Valley. Here's your queue, kid."  
She releases a long sigh and grips her lone satchel in one hand, her grandfather's letter in the other as she stands. Her thighs peel off the seat, and she takes one more deep breath in attempt to calm her nerves as she walks to the doors.  


 

 _Oh Yoba, give me strength._  
When her shaky feet meet the earth, she looks up to find a pair of friendly green eyes, slightly squinting due to calm, upturned lips. The crimson haired woman's whole aura is warm and open, giving way for her to relax a little.  
"You must be the new farmer everyone's talking about. My name is Robin Maker, welcome to Stardew Valley. You're gonna love it here."  
Robin holds out a hand to shake, to which the young woman gingerly takes.  
"I'm Ember," is all the girl could manage.

 

\--¤--

 

The only thing running through Ember's mind is how many days it's going to take to restore the property to the original glory it had when her grandfather lived here. Robin must have read her emotions like they were written across her forehead, because her hand found Ember's shoulder before she could groan about it.  
"It's going to need a lot of love and a strong hand, but there's some great soil under all that overgrowth."  


 

Before she could answer however, the mahogany door of the house creaked open behind them on hinges that desperately need oiled. An old, but lively man with a mustache and a newsboy cap steps out; he wipes dust off his forearms and sweat from his brow with an embroidered handkerchief. When you and Robin finally materialize in his vision, he's startled at your presences.  
"My goodness! You nearly made me jump from my bones. I wasn't expecting you to be here this early," the man says as he wipes more dust from his shoulder.  
"We're only ten minutes early, Lewis. I figured she'd get here a bit before five; you know how wonky the bus' schedule seems to get around these parts. Never know if it'll be late or early, just never on time," Robin retorts in a passive manner. Lewis all but rolls his eyes at the woman, to which she responds with a smile and shrug. The man then turns his attention to Ember; wiping his palm with the cloth before sticking it into his shirt pocket. He then extends the same hand to her, to which she gently shakes.  
"You must be Gregory's granddaughter. My name is Lewis Fields, I'm the mayor of this quaint little town. Your grandfather and I were friends long before you were born."  
The girl smiles at the thought of her grandpa having many friends and good memories on this property; it helps her relax a little more.  
"Ember. Nice to meet you Mr. Feilds." She shakes his hand once more before releasing it.  
"What a unique name! And no need to be formal, just call me Lewis," he says before giving her a warm grin. "So as sure am I to know that you'd love to start learning the ins and outs of your new property and how to utilize it, I'm even more sure you'd like to rest for a while first." Lewis finishes off with a wink, making her smile yet again.  
"Well, I guess I am a bit tired and peckish. It was a long drive here," Ember explains.  
"I wouldn't be surprised, young ones like you need rest and good nutrition, especially when you're a new farmer! Robin and I will leave you to get settled in. Tomorrow when you're ready, you should come into town and meet the rest of the residents. Everyone's been talking like schoolgirls about the new farmer coming to town," Lewis finishes.  
"It's not often that people decide to move here. I'm sure you'll meet a few friends," Robin adds.  


 

Robin and Lewis walk down the porch stairs and begin their route back into town when Lewis calls over his shoulder,"Oh yes, I also left you a housewarming gift inside. Put it to good use alright?"  
"I'm sure I will," she calls back, adjusting her satchel and opening the door. Remembering the last sentence in her grandfather's letter, she turns back to the pair fading in the distance of the East exit of the property.  
"Hey Lewis, one more thing!" she exclaims before they're too far to hear her. Lewis turns back to face her curiously.  
"My grandfather wanted me to tell you hello."

-


	2. Rhubarb Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting new people is an... _impactful_ experience, to say the least.

The door of the farm house slowly creaks open, ending its path with a soft thud against the wall. If first impressions are everything, then Grandpa's little home wouldn't be getting a second date. Ember shuts the door and surveys the room as she tosses her satchel on the bed. She notices a small box sitting pretty on the comforter; she opens it to find twenty parsnip seeds and two notes.

_These should get you started. Don't forget to water them every day!_  
_P.S. Here's a list of the fellow townsfolk. Be sure to introduce yourself to everyone._  
_See you soon, Lewis_

She glances over the list, not expecting to see so many names. She puts the seeds and notes on the end table at the foot of the bed and takes in a deep breath, but immediately regrets it, releasing it with a few harsh coughs. Despite Lewis' efforts to dust before she arrived, there was still a thin layer of grey particles on many surfaces, as well as a few looming in the air. Ember then reopens the front door, then walks across the small cottage (which took no more than fifteen steps) to open a smudgy window on the northern wall, figuring the house could use a few minutes of airing out. Looking to the wood floor, she notices how the it almost looks as though its begging to be polished. She walks to the bed, then realizes how dusty the comforter on the bed is as well. She sighs before rolling up her sleeves and pulling her unruly chocolate-brown hair back in a ponytail. Ember stands up straight; hands on her hips, determined look on her face.  
_With a few framed pictures, new sheets and lot of elbow grease, this place could really feel like home._

After a few hours of extensive scrubbing, wiping, and polishing, the farm house is _finally_ clean enough for Ember's liking. She hand washed the bed's comforter and pillow covers then hung them up on a clothesline behind the house, so she'll just have to get by with bare pillows and a thin sheet for the night. She sits on the twin-sized mattress and takes in a deep breath once more. _No coughing this time, good sign,_ she thinks as she kicks off her tennis shoes and lays flat on the bed, frame whining as she adjusts to get comfy. The sun is close to setting, but there's still enough daylight out to unpack her single bag and finish the last bits of cleaning. "I'll just rest for a little while, then it's back to work," Ember says to herself as she tucks a hand behind her head. She closes her eyes and sighs; questions flying through her mind about the following days. Will she adjust well? Can she live up to her grandfather's farming standards? Will the other residents of the town like her? But what about. . .

 

\--¤--

 

Ember's eyes fly open at the sound of a soft knock on the door frame.  
"Hello? Any farmer home?"  


The girl shoots up from her bed, squinting at the early morning light shining in from the doorway and open window. The figure in the frame steps in, revealing itself to be a short, full figured woman with warm brown eyes and auburn hair in a side braid. She's holding a small wicker basket with a cloth draped over its contents. Ember rubs the sleep from her eyes as she sits up from bed. This is _not_ the way she wanted to start meeting people.  
"Sorry to just waltz in, but when I came to welcome you to the valley, I found your front door was wide open. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright," the woman explains as Ember stands.  
"Yea.. I must have been more tired than I thought I was yesterday; dozed off before I could finish cleaning and unpacking. Sorry it's still a bit messy. I'm Ember," she says, finishing it with an awkward titter and scratch of her head.  
The woman chuckles herself, a calloused hand coming up to meet her upturned lips. "Don't worry darlin'. It's gonna take a while to get comfy in your new home." Ember smiles, thankful that everyone she's met so far (which isn't many, but regardless) has been welcoming and kind. The woman steps further into the house, extending the basket to the half-asleep girl.  


"I'm Marnie, I sell and tend to livestock just south of your property. Just wanted to bring you a small housewarmin' gift." Ember curiously takes the basket. She removes the cloth and is greeted with three generous handfuls of fresh strawberries and a pie with braided crust, still warm. She inhales deeply, stomach suddenly turning into knots. "Is this-?"  
"Rhubarb pie with a cinnamon crust. Made it myself not too long ago," Marnie beams proudly. Ember's eyes begin to water, not being able to tear her gaze away from the pie. Marnie immediately senses there's something wrong. "Did I say something?" Marnie asks, only to be greeted with no response. "Ember darlin'?" With a gentle hand to her shoulder, Ember snaps out of it and wipes the excess water from her mismatched eyes, being met with worried ones. "Oh, s-sorry Marnie. I didn't mean to scare you, I just..." Ember pauses, switching her gaze between the pie and the woman. "My mom used to make this when I was little. Brings back a lot of memories is all."  
Marnie's hand comes to her mouth once again. "Oh sweetheart, I should be the one who's sorry; I had no idea. I can take that back if you don't want-" Marnie reaches for the basket to remove the pie, but Ember only clutches the basket tighter.  
"No no it's alright! I still very much want it!" Ember walks and gently places the basket on the dining table. "It brought back good memories, ones that I haven't thought about in a long time. It's wonderful, Marnie. I'll enjoy it very much." Ember turns back to the woman, giving her the most genuine smile she could muster, which seems to satisfy her neighbor.  
"Well, if it won't do more than harm than good, then you can keep it. Just don't eat it all in one sitting, that'll do much more to ya than just reminding you of someone." Marnie smiles back, giving Ember a wink as she walks towards the door. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask me! I'm always here for a fellow farmer."  
One corner of Ember's mouth twitches upward. "Thank you Marnie, will do."  
The woman gives one last wave before heading out, closing the door behind her. Ember sighs and sits on the bed, staring at the pie across the room.

-


	3. Knockout impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet Shane!  
> ((Did you like my stupid pun for the chapter name ahahaha I'm a loser)  
> Also, there's a POV change in this chapter! It switches from Ember to Shane. From this chapter forward, I'll give you guys a heads up if there's POV changes. Enjoy! Xo

The entire following day was filled with many faces, names, and conversations that Ember could barely keep track of. Meeting the rest of the townsfolk was quite the endeavor, seeing as she had to walk literally from the mountains all the way to the shoreline. Everyone was very welcoming and pleasant, which Ember is grateful for. She walks though town square; the streetlights flickering on as daylight slowly dwindles away. A few faces stay fresh in her mind, and she picks apart the conversations she had with them as she walks home.  
Abigail, a violet-haired girl slightly younger than Ember. She muttered her disappointments of someone moving into the farmhouse, as she could no longer roam the property alone. But the moment Ember mentioned finding geodes in the rocks around her home, Abigail opened up due to her love of crystals. Ember recalls her odd reaction with this, noting the girl was heavily salivating by that point. Leah, an aspiring artist that lives just shy of Marnie's home. Ember likes painting and sketching herself, but 'isn't good enough to show it off' in her own words. Her and Leah talked for almost an hour about different types of paints and pencil preferences. Linus, an odd, but very gentle-hearted old man that lives in a tent in the mountainous hills. He shared with her some salmonberries he picked himself as they talked about foraging techniques. Then there was the two lone children of the town: Jas, Marnie's quiet and introverted little niece, and Vincent, younger brother of a super-saiyan looking teen by the name of Sam. The kids couldn't stop chattering about Ember's heterochromia, which she thought was adorable.  
_"What happened to your eyes? Have they always been like that?"_ She recalls Jas curiously asked while jumping rope once Ember introduced herself.  
_"I think the blue one's my favorite! Wait no, the brown one!"_ Vincent exclaimed, before pulling his lower eyelids down with his fingers to make his eyes look bigger.

Ember giggles at the memory, then takes out her list of names from her back pocket. Her eyes scan down the list, seeing every name had been crossed out when she met the corresponding resident. She pretends she's a hit woman as she reads, like she's got a list of friendship targets. She smirks at her overactive imagination, and that's when she notices one name not crossed out with pen.  
"Hm, 'Shane' huh?" she mutters, stopping to stand under a streetlight. She glances behind her, eyeing The Stardrop Saloon's faint glow in the distance. "Mayor Lewis did mention the Saloon gets crowded most nights; could be there. Maybe I've got some time snag a drink."  
Ember looks to her watch. _11:00 PM._ "Shit, no I do not." She stuffs her list back into her pocket and pulls her camo jacket over her shoulders, heading back towards her domain to rest for the night.

 

\--¤--

 

Sunlight drips through the thin curtains, dousing every inch of the house with a warm glow. Ember rolls away from the light in her face to fall back into a peaceful sleep, but ends up rolling too far; next thing her groggy head knows, is that she hit the ground and is now wedged between the wall and the bed frame.  
"Guughh. _Ow_." Ember wiggles from the crawlspace and flops horizontally onto the mattress, rubbing her sore ass and the sleep away from her face. She eventually sits up and steps away from the bed, knowing there's no hope for sleeping in any longer. She glances in the small mirror hung on the wall, and makes a gagging noise in response. Brown hair looking like a lion's mane, red eyes from grogginess and lack of coffee, dried drool stains, and just the loveliest smudge of dirt on her left cheek that's been there for Yoba knows how long. "Good morning sleeping beauty," Ember grumbles sarcastically as she strips down in preparation for a shower.  
-  
Ember checks her watch as she walks to her fridge in search of breakfast. _6:45 AM_. Ember opens her fridge to find nothing but half of Marnie's rhubarb pie and a gallon of purified water. For the last two days, she's been surviving on pie, energy bars and salmonberries, but she knows she can't do that forever. _Pierre's isn't open 'til 9:00, maybe I can buy a few eggs from Marnie,_ she considers. It isn't long before Ember has her steel-toes on and is locking her front door. While trekking through the overgrowth of the south side of the farm, she remembers the name of the last town resident she hasn't met; turning it over and over in her mind like a palm stone as she wonders where the hell she's going to find him.  
"Shane.."

Ember finally makes it through the south exit of the farm, eyes pinpointing Marnie's home in the distance. Ember walks over to the quaint little farmhouse and smiles at the "wipe your hooves" doormat. She raises her hand to knock, but before her knuckles make contact, the cherry wood door swings open, and a body collides into her before she can process what happened. Ember wobbles backwards, but manages to keep enough momentum to jut her upper body back up before she falls. The body that smacked into her, however, toppled _hard_ onto the floor, hitting his head against the doorknob on the way down. Ember focuses her vision on the body, realizing it's a young man.  
"Gah... _Fucking Hell_..." The man utters, all the while rubbing his head that probably smacked into the floor as well.  
"Oh Yoba, I'm so sorry!" Ember exclaims as she bends down to the man. "That was completely my fault. Lemme help you up." She offers a hand, but the man only scrunches his face in return. With a low grunt, he stands without help, simply to almost fall again due to the slight tilt in his steps. Ember holds out her arms, just in case his precarious movements reign true to themselves. The man walks forward, and Ember moves backwards to make room for him. He shuts the front door of Marnie's house and tries to walk past her, gripping the fencing as he tries to stabilize himself. Once again, Ember holds up her hands, but this time in protest to his movements.  
"Hey, take it easy for a second! We smacked into each other pretty hard, and you hit the door and ground even harder. You could have gotten a concussion."  
The man's eyebrows furrow and his face develops a look of disoriented annoyance. "I'm fine... Now if you'd be _so_ kind as to leave me alone-" He pauses mid sentence, trying to formulate his words to seem like he's alright. "I'd appreciate it." His voices slurs and he wobbles a bit, holding his head in one hand before speaking again. "I'm late for work anyway... I don't have time to chit-chat."  
He walks past Ember, and her brow scrunches as well when she looks to where he fell. "Hey man, I'm just trying to be considerate. You really should sit for-"  
Her sentence cuts off when her eyes drift back to the man; specifically, the back of his head and the small red streaks dripping down from his jet-black hair to the rim of his blue jacket. "Oh _shit_ ," Ember mumbles. This catches his attention, and he turns slightly to look over his shoulder at her. He hisses from pain in response to the movement before placing his hand on the back of his skull. It comes back smeared with crimson, and the man's eyes widen. He quickly looks to Ember; mouth agape and and eyes glazed before his eyelids flutter, and his legs give out. Ember takes advantage of her quick reflexes and catches him before he hits the ground a second time. She falls to her knees as she gently holds his head up, being careful of the bleeding gash. He can see her frantic lips moving, but he can only hear muffled versions of her words. The last thing he remembers seeing is her mismatched eyes. . .

 

\--¤--

 

_Screams. Bloody handprints on windows and hollow, empty eyes. Smoke-charred lungs, heaving for air. Frantic. Crimson-stained tools and shattered glass. Screeching sirens. Searching, searching, searching. Throwing open doors only to fall into pits. Shattered porcelain. Being dragged. Mushroom cloud. Whispers as loud as shrieks. No no no no stop stop put it out where are they NO-_

"Shane? Shane darlin' can you hear me?"  
He squints his shut eyes even tighter, soft voices mumble around him and shadows dance behind his eyelids. Something is wrapped around his head and it itches. He pries his eyes open to see his Aunt Marnie hovering over him, along with Harvey, the town's doctor. He tries to sit up, but is immediately stopped by a hand on his chest keeping him down. He grunts in protest.  
"That's not a good idea, Shane. You need to stay in bed; Can't risk you falling again." He strains his eyes, looking at the doctor and his Aunt quizzically.  
"W....Where am I?" He slowly speaks. _Dear Yoba, is my mouth dry. _He silently thinks.__  
"You're home chickadee, in your bed," Marnie responds. Before he could ask what happened, Harvey chimes in with the answer.  
"You got a concussion and been out for about four hours. Nothing life threatening, but you needed stitches on the back of your head." Shane lifts a heavy arm, running his fingers on the gauze and wrap around his skull.  
"You're really lucky our neighbor is a fast runner, she got Harvey here in two shakes of a chicken's tail feather. She's also strong, my goodness. She's the one who carried you inside," Marnie says as she gently brushes his blood-crusted hair back.  
"N-neighbor?" He asks, unsure of who she's referring to. As if on queue, a young woman walks in through his bedroom door, boots covered in dry mud and grey v-neck speckled with blood. Shane silently hopes she doesn't drag dirt into his room and all over his rug. She timidly walks up to the bed and looks down at him. _Great, I must look like an abused puppy right now._  
"Hi," is all she manages to stutter out.  
"Hey," he passively says. Just then, he notices her eyes; one blue, one brown.  
_Mismatched eyes._  
"W...Wait, you're-"  
"The crazy chick who you ran into and knocked you to the ground. Yea that's me," she blurts out as she rubs her neck, obviously a little embarrassed and empathetic. "I'm really sorry about this. For the record, this isn't how I wanted to meet you. But I guess now that you're awake..." She trails off, not sure how to finish her sentence without seeming rude.  
"I'm Ember." She holds out a hand for him to shake, keeping it very close to his so he doesn't have to reach too far for it. He can't seem to understand it, but he can't stop staring at her eyes. His brow furrows when he manages to tear himself away from her gaze, not bothering to shake her hand as he opts out to stare blankly across the room. "Shane, what a pleasure," he says sarcastically.  
Suddenly, Shane realizes what he was about to do when the accident happened. He frantically tries to sit up in bed to no avail, due to hands pushing him down and pain surging through him. "Lemme up... My shift... I have work," Shane argues as he struggles. "You can't go to work like this! You must rest if you want to heal," Harvey implores. After a few moments of fidgeting, he gives up and lays flat.  
"Plus, your shift is already taken care of," Marnie adds. Shane darts his squinted vision at his aunt, now thoroughly confused and aggravated.  
"I used to be a high ranking worker for Joja corp," Ember pipes up, and Shane's eyes are glued on hers once again. "I pulled some strings with that a-hole of a boss of yours. You've got a week and a half of paid leave starting today to get better." Shane's jaw drops open slightly, surprised she was able to convince Morris to budge on his schedule, let alone his money. His first impulse is to say thank you, but he stops himself, letting the bitter taste on his tongue take over for him.  
"Yea, well you were the one who got me in this mess, so it's at least fair you got me somewhat out of a bigger one. Fair trade I'd say, so thanks for nothing." Ember's brow furrows at his words, and she turns her back to him, severing his blank stare at her eyes.  
A small, somewhat annoyed,"You're welcome" fell from her lips as she walks out of the room. Marnie and Harvey watch Ember leave their sights of vision, and immediately turn to scowl at Shane.

____All he could do in response was furrow his brow in confusion, and yipe out a defensive "What?"  
-_ _ _ _


	4. Old Bandages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane can't get out of bed until his concussion is gone and his stitches are completely healed, so the least wanted face shows up to do his most prized job. And boy, is he not happy about it.

_"Synna! Synna, where the hell are you?!"_  
_Blindly running through smoke. Ash in tear ducts. Tripping over glass and charred remains. Darting vision._  
_A scream, a choke. A scream._  
_"Synna!"_  
_Turning sharp corners. Maze in a thick layer of hot smog. Open door._  
_Frail body overshadowed. One dart, one swing. He dodges. Another swing. Hit. Radiating red, shoulder to shoulder. A third swing. Palm gushing red._  
_The faintest of sounds heard:_ "Shane!"  
_Running, falling downstairs. Bodies collide. Dragged away from the licking heat._  
_Reach, struggle, flail, protest._  
_"No no no no!_ Synna!"  
_Splintering frame. Collapse._

_A replay of the last endeavor: "Shane!"_  
_"Shane. . ."_

\--¤--

"Shane? Shane darlin' wake up."

His eyes fly open as he gasps in fresh air, chest heaving and throat dry. He tries to distinguish nightmare from reality as his blurred vision flicks around, eventually landing on the muddled figure standing above him. His field of sight pulses with pain radiating from the stitches.  
"Common, chickadee. Wakey-wakey," the figure speaks before patting his cheek several times to get him to focus. Shane rubs his eyes; once they center, he recognizes the figure as his aunt, looking down at him with the same sympathetic expression she wore yesterday after the accident. She's holding a glass of ice water in one hand. He grunts at the pity look and swipes a hand down his face, now realizing he was cold-sweating in his sleep. "What time izit," Shane grumbles as he slowly sits up in bed, kicking the covers off of his sticky frame. He immediately regrets it though, finding that he's been sleeping in his boxers. He darts to pull the blanket back up to his waist, preferring that his aunt _doesn't_ see him with no pants on. Marnie rolls her eyes.  
"Really, Shane. I used to change your diapers when you were still a kit. And you're acting like I haven't seen ya sneaking a piece of my pie at three in the mornin' in nothing but ya skivvies."  
Shane's face scrunches and his eyes dart away, embarrassed and slightly annoyed that he's been caught red-handed before. "Anyhow," Marnie continues,"it's nine, which means it's time to take your meds and change your bandages." Marnie hands him the glass and places two small, white oval pills in his left palm. He studies the hand that holds them, eyeing the jagged scar tissue sprawled across it from his pointer finger to the bottom-right corner, stopping at his wrist. He remembers this was the hand that that new farm girl wanted to shake before she left. He pops the two pills in his dry mouth and gulps down the entire glass of liquid; the cold water relieving his scratchy throat as he swallows the medication. He sets the glass down on his nightstand and winces, not prepared for Marnie to start taking off the bandages right away. "I know, I'm sure it doesn't feel good, but we gotta keep it clean darlin'. Just let the meds kick in and it won't hurt after that."  
Shane frowns and squints as she finishes unwrapping his head. _I feel like a dependent little kid,_ Shane thinks to himself. _I guess that's basically what I am on the daily, anyway._

Marnie gently applies some antibiotic cream and is halfway through applying new bandages when a knock comes from the front door of the house. Marnie looks to the door before turning back to Shane, saying," hold this here, I'll be back in a jiffy," before leaving him half-bandaged and curious about the knock at the door. Shane's eyes drift between the old, bloodied bandages in his lap, and the direction of the door. He eventually tries to lean on the edge of his bed to see who knocked, but the entryway is just out of his field of vision. He faintly hears his aunt greeting someone, so he leans to his right a little more. Unfortunately, this proved to be just a little _too_ much, because before he could stop himself, he had already fell on the floor with a loud thud.  
"Buhhhhh..." escapes his lips as his holds his bandages in place. Marnie rushes back into the room, and her shoulders slouch when she finds her nephew on the floor. She pinches the bridge of her nose as she walks over to him. "Shane..." is all she says while she tries to help him up and off the floor. As he was about to accept Marnie's gesture, a face peeks around the frame of his bedroom door. Mismatched eyes peer down at him.  
Farm girl.  
Shane blushes out of embarrassment and he swats his aunt away. "I don't need help," he says, quickly standing on wobbly legs and plopping back down on his bed. He grabs the covers and throws them over his lap once more. Marnie sighs and rolls her eyes. "Can ya at _least_ be a little more careful? I don't want to have to take care of any broken bones along with your stitches."  
_Man, wouldn't that make me even more of an inconvenience, if that's even possible._ Shane thinks as Marnie starts again on his bandages. Shane's eyes flick back to his door, expecting to see farm girl still standing there, but he's (thankfully) met with an empty frame. He peers beyond the doorway to see her standing in the kitchen, studying Marnie's display cabinet full of her "special china" (his aunt's words, not his). He mentally shrugs it off; he probably wasn't looking like the best thing to stare at anyway. Plus, he hated being stared at; it felt like he was being singled out and quietly judged from afar. Figuring she was a safe enough distance from his room that she wouldn't hear anything said, Shane glances up at his aunt once she finishes with the end of the last bandage.  
"Why's she here, anyway? The farm girl?" Shane questions his aunt, speaking in a slightly hushed tone.  
"Her name is Ember," Marnie retorts. His aunt was always a stickler for manners when it comes to other people.  
Shane sighs audibly. "Fine. Why is _Ember_ here?" he says in a passive-aggressive tone.  
"She'll be working for and with me on the ranch for a while. The poor little bird came here with no farming or large animal experience and nothing but spare change in her pocket, so I thought she could be of use here. Ya also can't take care of the chickens until you're well again, so I'm hiring her to do it until you're back on ya feet."  
Shane's eyebrows immediately scrunch together. "You can't be serious," he says sternly. One of Marnie's eyebrows flick up as well. "Do ya have a problem with this?" Marnie questions, crossing her arms. Shane scoffs.  
"No, except for the fact that _she's_ the reason I'm sitting in bed and not at work in the first place. Plus, I'm perfectly fine to take care of the chickens, I don't need some sassy little stranger to do my job for me."  
Marnie gives him a look of disapproval. "Shane, don't be sucha' fuss. Doctor Harvey said ya can't do anything strenuous until you're completely better. That includes taking care of the chickens. Besides, she's a nice girl. Don't blame what happened on her, it's no one's fault."  
_Except that it really was her fault_ , he bitterly thinks. Shane simply rolls his eyes at his aunt and climbs back into bed, pulling his duvet up to his shoulders. His meds start to kick in, making him too drowsy to care anymore as she walks out of his room. She leaves the door slightly cracked, just enough for him to see her and the girl chatting in the kitchen. He watches as his aunt hands the girl a milking pail and a wicker basket, _his_ wicker basket, for gathering eggs. He can see she's nervous, but there's a twinkle of excitement in her eyes as well. He can't hear their conversation clearly, but he thinks she told a joke, because Marnie is laughing heartily and wiping a tear from her eye. Shane squints in intrigue; he hasn't heard his aunt laugh like that in a long time. The girl unexpectedly turns to face his bedroom door, and before he lets his eyes make contact with hers, he rolls over in bed to face the wall.  
_The next few months are going to be weird_ , he thinks silently before drifting back into sleep.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thanks for being patient with me for this chapter. So there's something that I wanted to address about this fic: updates may come a bit slow until the 1.1 update comes out, because I _really_ don't want to miss any new content that I can work with and incorporate in here! But be patient with me please, because as soon as the update is released, this fic will be on a regular update schedule! Thanks again for reading everyone, and as always, comments, kudos and constructive criticism are appreciated!!❤


	5. Muffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since Shane had a drink, and his body is not having it. Cue alcohol withdrawal symptoms!  
> {Shane's point of view}  
> -WARNING: vomit in the first two paragraphs-

His eyes sting with the leftovers of little sleep as he wakes to the loud clanking of pans in the next room. He sits up in his bed and immediately felt the contrition set in; his heart nearly thumping out of his chest from sudden anxiety, and stomach threatening to spill its contents at the smell of something sickly sweet coming from the kitchen. A wave of nausea wracks his body and he lurches forward, instinctively putting a hand over his mouth. How long was it since his last drink?

Shane holds a hand to his somersaulting gut and stumbles out of bed, rummaging through his hamper of dirty clothes to pull out a pair of cut-off sweats. Once he slips on the shorts, another wave of nausea hits him harder than the last, and he throws open his bedroom door. Shane hurries past two blurred bodies in the kitchen to the bathroom on the far wall and slams the door shut. Not bothering to turn on the light, he quickly gets to his knees; just barely managing to lift the toilet seat before heaving into the bowl. As the storm in his insides calms momentarily, he hears hushed tones in the other room; talking about him he assumes. He heaves a second time, and then a third. By the fourth, his stomach is completely empty and his head is pounding at the tempo of his heart. Shane spits and wipes his mouth with tissue before flushing, standing from weak knees and resting against the wall for a moment. "I need a fucking drink," he grumbles as his shaky hand turns the knob and opens the bathroom door. As he slowly emerges, his bloodshot eyes see two pairs looking back at him; one pair belonging to his aunt, the other to the farm chick. She watches him as he hobbles into the kitchen, putting down a tray of fresh muffins on the table as he makes his way to the fridge. He groans at the sight, his stomach gurgling with both hunger and nauseousness as he turns away and opens the fridge. Marnie bends down to check something in the oven, then looks over her shoulder at him as she flips an omelette in her pan.

"Well good mornin' sleeping b-" Marnie starts, but is cut off when she sees her nephew reach for the twelve-pack in the fridge. Her face scrunches in disapproval.  
"Are ya really gonna drink after chuckin' up ya guts? Don'tcha think that's a bad idea?" Marnie retorts as she fills the omelette with various vegetables and grated cheese. The only thing Shane responds with is his signature "buh". Once he retrieves a can of beer, he leans to step away from the fridge but underestimates, bonking the back of his head on the top edge of the fridge. He immediately drops the can and presses a hand to the back of his head, wincing at the stitches. He pulls it away from find speckles of blood on his palm. "Shit," he mumbles, catching the girl and his aunt's attentions once more. The girl quickly stops what she's doing and walks around the table to look at the damage. She kneels down beside him, eyeing the bandages around the back of his head.  
"I think you might have split a stitch or two open," she explains as she tries to examine the now bloody gauze. Shane pulls away from her, keeping his personal bubble free of intruders. Marnie audibly sighs from the stove. "Shane, ya really need to be more careful, those stitches will never heal if you're rough with em'," she says as the girl gently nods her head in agreement.  
"Ember darlin', could you help him patch em' up? I've got my hands full at the moment," Marnie asks as she flips her omelette once more for emphasis.  
"I don't need help, I can do it myself," Shane protests in annoyance. The girl's eyes flip from Marnie to him, and he's caught off guard momentarily by her stern but soft gaze. He's suddenly, and painfully, aware that he really needs to brush his teeth and take a shower.  
"There should be a few butterfly bandages in the cabinet above the washroom sink," Marnie adds, completely disregarding Shane's comment. He stands in annoyance and leans on a dining chair as the girl picks up the can, sets it back in the fridge, and heads to retrieve the necessary supplies. He heads to his room once she walks away, grumbling about how all he wanted was a damn drink.

Shane plops down on his bed with a dragged out sigh, leaning his head down so his chin met his chest. His trembling fingers struggle to locate the edge of the bandage, which in turn make him more annoyed and shake more.  
"Here, lemme get it."  
He glances up to see the farm girl standing before him; antibiotic cream, fresh gauze and butterflies in hand. He lowers his face again.  
"I said I didn't need help," Shane says bluntly, still unable to find the end of the stupid wrap. She sighs and leaves him to struggle, but stands her ground patiently and crosses her arms. Shane focuses again on the bandages, but still can't seem to find the end piece. After a few more minutes of fumbling, he finally picks his battle and gives in, letting his wrists fall to his knees and keeping his head down. Farm girl uncrosses her arms and takes a proud step forward, leaning to put the medical supplies by his side on the bed. She begins unwrapping his head, and Shane stays silent as he tries to ignore the pain. He notices her knees are only a few inches away from his. He hates when people invade his space; he feels suffocated, which only worsens his current anxiety. He sighs loudly to calm himself.  
"Can't you wrap this up any quicker?" He remarks, still slightly annoyed. She laughs softly, and this catches Shane off guard. _She laughed?_ He usually makes jokes when he's nervous or stressed, but even when he simply tries to be funny, no one ever laughs except Jas, whom loves his jokes, or Marnie with an occasional smile. He didn't realize that the pun he made was even worthy of a snicker.  
"Very funny," she says as she applies a butterfly bandage. Neither her nor Shane say anything further; he simply watches her weight shift from one shin to the other, no longer annoyed and not as anxious as before. She places the last bandage, effectively sealing the wound. She spreads a small amount of cream on the opened section, then begins to re-wrap his head.  
"I really am sorry, you know," she says, winding the wrap around his forehead another time. "I didn't mean to make life any harder on you before I even met you."  
Shane closes his eyes as she places the wrap gently and strategically. "It's fine. Just stay out of my way from now on and it won't happen again."  
_Ouch_. He didn't mean for it to come out that harsh.  
He hears a small sigh come from her lips. She backs away from him, picking up the bandage wrappers and tube of cream. "There, I'm done. You're welcome."  
Shane lifts his head just in time to see her shut his bedroom door. He opens the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a small cracked mirror, eyeing the work she did on his head. He runs his fingertips over the wrap and gauze. _Still want my beer,_ Shane thinks to himself. But after what just happened, he decides he'd rather not venture out of his room for a while. He lays down in bed, not bothering to get under the blankets as he stares at the ceiling.

 

\--¤--

 

After a four hour nap and an additional hour glaring at his blank ceiling, Shane finally decides to get up and do something at least a little productive with his time now that it's dark outside. He settles on a pillow on the floor in front of his gaming console and flips it and its attached cheating system on. He's sitting on the floor of his bedroom playing his Mega Station when there's a light knock on his bedroom door.  
"I'm busy," Shane calls over his shoulder, never looking away from his TV. The door creaks open anyway, irritating him as he mashes the buttons on his controller.  
"Can I _help_ you?" Shane says with a sour tone, still not looking away from his screen. One wrong button pressed causes him to die, making him toss his controller to the ground. "Damnit!" Shane exhales loudly and turns his torso towards his door. "Okay, what do you w-"  
He's cut off when he is met with an empty space, door shut. His basket he uses for the chicken eggs is sitting at the entrance of his room. Shane scoots along the floor, not wanting to stand and walk to the basket. He picks it up to find a single can of beer and a muffin wrapped in a napkin inside, along with a small note on a scrap of paper.

" _I haven't gone in the barn at all. If taking care of the chickens is that important to you, I'm not gonna stop ya, just don't tell Marnie I'm letting you take over, or that I gave you a beer. Try not to drink too much while you're down. Eat this first and then go feed the chickens after; you need to eat too, Shane.  
See you tomorrow, Ember"_

Shane picks up and clicks open the beer, chugging half of it in one gulp. He sets down the can, then unwraps the muffin, noticing it has a delicate, thin coating of icing on the top. He takes a bite and his mouth instantly starts watering. Poppy seed with lemon icing. He takes another, much larger bite, unsure if it's more because he's hungry, or it's just plain delicious. _Damn, are these things good,_ he thinks as he scarfs the muffin down. Shane swallows the last bite of muffin and dumps the remaining crumbs from the baking paper into his mouth, washing it down with another gulp of beer. He glances back at the crumpled note and the basket, pondering the events of the day. 

"Ember..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then he went into the kitchen and ate all the rest of the muffins, lol


	6. Who does she think she is?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane overhears things he doesn't like. Stupid farm girl, snooping around.

Ember shuts the door as quietly as possible, tiptoeing into the inky blackness of early dawn. Taking off her jacket, she glances at the chicken-shaped clock on the wall. _4:57 AM_.  
Ember decided it would be best if she started her work for Marnie early in the morning, before anyone is awake, so she can help with breakfast at dawn. She saunters behind the counter and outstretches for her supplies, only to realize the wicker basket is gone. Just as she stands tall, she hears a door shut behind her. Ember turns to see Shane exiting the chicken coop fully clothed, yawning and grasping a basket full of fresh eggs.  
Surprised to see him at work so early, she gives him a simple, "Mornin."  
Startled at the disembodied voice, Shane jumps. An egg falls from his basket at the sudden movement and bursts on the floor. "Shit!" Shane whispers, and Ember strides over. He kneels on the floor to look at the newfound mess, and she crouches next to him.  
"You almost gave me a damn heart attack," Shane hisses, squinting so he can see the girl's face. "My bad," Ember returns empathetically. Shane glances at her in irritation, before looking for something to wipe up the broken egg. "Hey, I'll clean this up. You should get back to bed," Ember offers as a truce. Shane glares at her, realizing her face is little less than a foot from his. He sighs audibly, thankful the house is still dark so he can't be spellbound by her eyes.  
"Sure, whatever," Shane mumbles as stands. He sets the basket of eggs on the kitchen table before vanishing into his room, leaving Ember crouched in the darkness. She sighs and stands as well, before grabbing a roll of paper towels from the counter.

\--¤--

Shane rolls over in bed, stirred by the warm, inviting smell of breakfast. He peaks one bloodshot eye at his bedside clock. _7:56 AM_. "Ugh," he groans; he didn't mean to fall back asleep after feeding the chickens. _Well, might as well sleep the whole day away now._ His stinging eyes slowly close, before he slowly drifts back to-  
A knock at on the door frame brings Shane to full consciousness. "Shane? Shane darlin', you up? Time for breakfast hun."  
He winces at the thought of having to leaves his refuge again. "No," is all he replies with. After a brief sigh, his bedroom door swings open loudly, and his aunt yanks off his comforter before he knows it. He whines and instinctively curls up to save his escaping warmth.  
"Up. Breakfast will be ready in five," his aunt declares, before leaving his room, door slightly ajar.

Shane grouses, and sits up in bed with a shiver. He snatches his comforter from the ground and throws it around himself, encasing the last of his body heat in the core. He stands and suffles to his cracked door, peaking into the kitchen and dining room. His brow furrows. _No farm girl?_ he wonders, perplexed when he doesn't see her brown, curly hair somewhere in the room. Shane emerges from his room, blanket still swallowing every part of him but his face and ankles. Marnie is seasoning three sizzling eggs, facing the windowsill. Shane takes advantage of this to sneak a beer, hiding it in his mass of blanket, then plops into a dining chair. His eyes drift down, peering into the cave at his chest. He fumbles to open the can as quietly as possible.  
"Put it back."  
Shane stiffens, caught red handed. He expects to see his aunt scolding, but instead, he's met with mix-matched eyes staring down at him.  
"Wh- farm girl?" Shane mutters, thinking she had finished work early. Ember deadpans him.  
"Forget my name again, blanket dweller? What's next, you'll forget to be mean to me, too?" she replies ritualistically, turning to retrieve plates and silverware. Shane squints. _What's that supposed to mean?_  
"Uhh," Shane falters. Before he can try to form a sentence, Jas skips down the hallway, claiming the seat next to her cousin. "Morning Shane!" Jas chimes, saving him from a conversation he'd rather avoid. He smiles faintly, reaching a hand out from his blanket to scruff her hair. "Morning, razzle," he quips. Ember glances over her shoulder for a moment, before turning her attention back to her task. She sets the dishware on the table, then a plate piled-high with fresh-baked biscuits. Next a bowl of cut fruit, then finally distributes the plates of eggs to everyone.

Jas is the first to eye the biscuits, extending both arms at the plate across the table. "I want three!" she exclaims, eyes pleading for someone to pass her the plate. No one does. Jas pouts. "Not healthy Jas," Marnie says as she sits. "You can have one. Maybe two if you promise to pick me a nice daffodil on your way home from school, today." Ember notices Marnie wink at the child. Jas' face lights up with excitement. "I'll pick you the prettiest Daffodil I can find, Aunt Marnie!" Jas exclaims; big, endearing smile sprawled across her face. Ember passes to Shane, she sees him smiling softly at his young cousin. _What a rare sight_ , she notes. Shane glances up and finds her staring at him intently. He scowls slightly and changes his focal point to his plate. Ember quietly sighs and begins to fill her platter. 

\--¤--

Ember presses her forearm to the door of the saloon, wiping her muddied boots on the mat before entering. She figures she has time for a drink after work before going home to crash. The music box plays a soothing tune; it spreads softly though the barren space of the pub. Emily stands alone behind the bar top, rhythmically polishing glasses and organizing them; she's deep in a memory that has brought gaiety to her face.  
Ember plods into a seat at the leftmost edge of the bar. She leans one elbow on the edge of the counter and rests her chin into her palm. The movement rattles a few glasses under the inner counter, grasping Emily's attention.  
"Oh, Ember! Didn't even hear you come in! How goes it?" Emily says in spirits.  
"Mmff," is all she is given in repose; Ember is mindlessly glaring at the cold fireplace. Emily's brow scrunches, and she sets down her polishing rag and glass.  
"Shane troubles?" she guesses, slouching to eye level. Ember's body becomes rigid, but her eyes quickly dart to bore into Emily. A brow raises in suspicion.  
"How did you-"  
"It's not hard to guess," Emily insights, standing straight. She picks up her rag afresh, it taking second in her notice. "I see you leaving Marnie and Shane's sometimes when I leave for work. You work for Marnie right now because you're trying to learn some ropes, right? She's great for that, really patient. And since you're new and don't know everyone yet, you're trying to make the best of the already good by learning the land _and_ making a new friend. But because Shane is-"  
She pauses, seeing Ember patiently waiting for her to finish, but enthralled in every word nonetheless.  
"Because Shane _is_ Shane, you're not getting any luck and he's well, being a hard one to catch. You want to be his friend, but he seems like he can't stand you. How much did I get right?" Ember peers into Emily's relaxed manor. She exhales and leans further into her palm, closing her eyes. "How do you do that?" Ember causally stipulates.  
"Do what?"  
"Read people so easily; how do you do it? Were you born able to read people like shelves of books, or did you teach yourself how?" Ember specified.  
Emily smiles widely, but purely. "A little of both I guess. Gotta be receptive to feelings if you wanna be able to recognize them." Ember glances at Emily once more, her smile softer now. She sighs. 

Emily was one of the first people Ember met when the move first took place. Emily immediately interested in befriending a newbie to Pelican Town, and Ember feeding off of Emily's raw but unique energy. Within the last two weeks, the two girls seemed to click pretty fast. But there's a lot that Emily still doesn't know about Ember. And there's _definitely_ a lot of things that she doesn't know when it comes to Emily. One of which is her ability to pick a person to pieces just to know what bothers them, what makes them happy. What makes them tick. 

Emily finishes polishing and storing her last glass. She stands and proceeds around the bar, taking the seat next to Ember.  


The door of the tavern opens without a noise, and Shane strolls in; he expects nightlife starting to form in the last shreds of the sunset, but is met with a quiet saloon. He silently eyes the two bodies sitting at the bar, facing away from him. _Farm girl and Emily? Since when were they friends?_ He's about to clear his throat to reveal himself, but Emily continues their conversation. 

"You're not doing anything wrong," She says, mimicking Ember's lean on the counter. "It's just how Shane is. He absolutely _despises_ anyone he doesn't feel has earned his trust," Emily reveals. Ember's face wears a full face of pessimism.  
" _However_ , once you earn it, he's really respectful. Sweet, even." Ember is taken aback. "Sweet?" She implored. She never associated such a word with Shane.  
"Yea, actually!" Emily explains confidently. "He is a low maintenance friend for sure, but contrary to popular belief, he is capable of contributing to a companionship." Ember squints and positions herself to face the conversation. "How did you get to be his friend? I didn't even know Shane was able to even hold a legitimate conversation and stand another person for that long." _Hey!_ Shane thinks in defense. Emily sits straight. Shane stays quiet, opting to step even further out of sight in the doorway.

"Shane is here every night," she states.  
"I work every evening til' midnight. Started as me trying to make annoyingly friendly conversations and him telling me to buzz off. But eventually he stopped telling me to leave him alone. And one day he actually gave me a response. A _friendly_ response." Ember raises her brows. Emily smiles, then looks to the door. Shane barely escapes her gaze. "I think Shane is really lonely. I think he's got a big weight to carry, what that is I've got no clue. What I do know is he's bitter, and he's a maze. Just keep trying. I know it's like poking a sleeping bear sometimes, but keep digging and eventually, I think he'll let you in." Ember glared momentarily, before slumping in a heap onto the counter.  
"It's even harder to poke an already awake bear though," Ember mumbles through her folded arms, just loud enough for Shane to hear. Emily laughs.  
"He's hiding something, I know it," Ember says more clearly, resting her cheek on her arms and looking up at Emily. "And I'm gonna find out what it is."  
Shane's face hardens, and he bursts out of the front door, away from the Saloon. Emily and Ember sit there startled, unaware anyone was ever there.

\--¤--


End file.
